What will come, will come
by J.e.n.n.a.7
Summary: Hi This is a HarryDraco story in the making... Basically what would have become if Harry went back to Hogwarts...minus the importance of the horcruxes slightly and with the addition of hpdm relationship its my first one so yea, hope you like it! X


**What will come, will come.**

_Chapter 1: __A misunderstanding._

Harry opened his eyes. The bright light from Hogwarts grounds was streaming through the parting in the curtains around his bed. He sighed and leant across, pulling the curtains back together and closed his eyes again, desperately trying to remember the dream he had just awoken from. It had been a good dream. Harry was flying his Firebolt – no. He had just won the house cup – no, that wasn't it either. Whatever it had been the only thing he could remember was the immense feeling of happiness it had given him. Dreams like that were very rare of recent, as Harry frequently awoke shivering but sweating, Voldemort's face swimming in front of his eyes. As Harry gave up his attempts to remember the dream, the realisation of his life and problems crashed down around him. One of them being that he had only twenty minutes to get to the great hall if he wasn't to be issued another weeks worth of Crucio curses by the Carrows. And with that thought, Harry pulled himself from his bed and began to get ready for what was bound to be another horrible day.

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"What's up Harry?" Hermione whispered, as he slumped down at the Gryffindor table, a little more aggressively then normal.

"Nothing," he replied, "just tired I guess."

Harry turned towards Ron, only to see Colin Creevey where he normally sat.

"Hi Harry!" Colin mouthed enthusiastically.

"Where's Ron?" Harry whispered as he turned back to Hermione. She pointed up the table to where he was sat - looking quite red faced as he whispered angrily at Ginny.

Before Harry could ask what Ron was doing, all whispers around the hall subsided, and every student stood up, facing the front.

"Well…" Amycus' snide voice echoed from the front table, "You know what to do."

Harry scowled as every student said the same words they were made to repeat every morning.

"We are here to become wizards and to obey Professor Snape as head master of this school. We appreciate the difference between muggles and wizards and respect those like us…"

Harry thought this part was extremely hypocritical, as Snape treated no other wizard with respect - except Voldemort. But Harry repeated these words through gritted teeth, purely to avoid the whole of Gryffindor house being placed in a torturous detention if he refused.

As the sound that filled the hall droned on, he looked towards the Slytherin table, the only house who repeated these words with honour. He scanned the table and sure enough there was Malfoy - stood at the front, head held high, and nose in the air as he set an example to the other students. Malfoy was Head Boy and Harry looked away, disgusted at the sight of him.

"Malfoy's such a prat!" Harry said angrily once all students had sat down again and started breakfast.

"I know Harry. I despise the way he uses his Head Boy status to do whatever he pleases." Hermione said, "That's not what it's for you know." Hermione was quite touchy when it came to this subject, as she had clearly been the best candidate for the head girl, but Pansy Parkinson had somehow managed to get it. "I mean, that Parkinson girl, she doesn't do her job correctly either. Neither of them deserves that badge."

"Exactly." Harry replied, though he didn't care at all about head boy or girl. He was just angry – no - _very_ angry at Malfoy today. So he took the opportunity to rant about him to Colin, who agreed with everything he said, ecstatic that Harry was having an _actual_ conversation with him.

Harry left the great hall after breakfast, discomforted by the fact that his first lesson was Potions but in a better mood none-the-less, now that he had got his anger at Malfoy off his chest. This didn't last for long however, as a few minutes later Ron pushed straight past him in the corridor, hurrying on into the crowd and ignoring him completely. Harry stared after him, confused. Ron was never in a rush to get to any lesson, let alone potions…

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Ron was silent for the whole hour of potions, only grunting occasionally when Harry tried to converse with him, and finally leaving the dungeons quickly after class without waiting for him. Harry couldn't understand what he had done wrong. Was it because he laughed when Neville accidentally spilt bubotuber pus all over Ron yesterday? Ron wasn't too happy but Hermione cleaned it off with her wand in a second! Or was it because Harry had given him a feet-flavoured Bertie Bott's every flavour bean instead of a cheesecake-flavoured one. But that was an honest mistake, surely Ron understood that? Baffled by Ron's behaviour Harry decided to ask Hermione if she knew anything about it and got the opportunity to do so that very afternoon…

Charms was always a very busy and a very loud lesson. Snaps and pops were frequently heard from around the classroom, along with a large amount of chatter which took place. And students were often moving from one end of the class to the other, either trying to catch a 'no-longer-flying' object or becoming airborne themselves as other peoples spells missed there intended destinations. Ron seemed to continue his 'grudge' with Harry and had sat across the room next to Neville, leaving just him and Hermione at their usual table.

As Neville sent Professor Flitwick soaring across the room, Harry decided it was a good distraction to use in order to interrogate Hermione, without Ron hearing.

"Hermione, what's up with Ron today?" Harry said, getting straight to the point.

"Nothing," she replied, though rather unconvincingly as she deliberately avoided Harry's eyes.

"Oh come on Hermione, I can tell you know something, you always know everything."

Hermione smiled slightly. She couldn't help but appreciate how her intelligence was noted.

"Even so Harry, it's not for me to say."

"There, you know exactly why he's acting like this don't you!" Harry said rather heatedly.

"Well, oh fine, yes I do. But like I said it's his business and therefore not mine to tell you."

"Hermione, Ron is my _best friend_, and I don't even know what I've done wrong." Harry pleaded, "Please, you've always been the smart one, the glue that kept us three together, let me know what's going on so I can fix it."

"I know what your doing Harry, and it's not going to work," She replied, "Why don't you just ask Ron instead of trying to compliment me into telling you?"

"Ron's been ignoring me all day." He replied, "Besides Hermione you know it makes sense. If you tell me then I don't have to have a huge argument with him, I can sort it out without any hassle and before you know it we're friends again. You know what we're like."

Hermione knew she really shouldn't say anything, but, Harry _was_ right. It did make sense. Hermione hated the arguing, in which she always got caught in the middle. She was even forced to become some sort of messenger girl on occasions when they refused to talk at all. So with a quick glance towards Ron - where he was still distracted, helping Neville pull Professor Flitwick down from a torch bracket – she caved.

"Fine Harry, but you _cannot _let Ron know it was me who told you okay?" Hermione demanded.

"Of course I won't… I swear!" He added when she gave him that familiar look of disbelief.

"Right, well, erm," Hermione cleared her throat as she tried to find the right way to put it, "Well, last night, Ron erm, while you were sleeping, he heard, well, he heard you…_moaning_."

"So?" Harry replied rather confused, "That happens all the time. I always get bad dreams, what's that got to do with anything?"

"Oh Harry, not _that_ type of moaning," she said hastily.

Harry had just noticed Hermione had turned a furious shade of red as she quickly checked Ron was still too preoccupied to be overhearing.

"What Hermione, I don't understand what you mean. And why are you blushing so much?"

"Am I?" Hermione jumped as she grabbed her wand and conjured a mirror from thin air, "Oh no! If Ron sees he'll know I've been telling you!"

"Well Hermione you still haven't really told me anything…Can you please explain?"

"Oh Harry you are so slow," She sighed, putting down the mirror, "Look, Ron thinks you are, erm…_expecting_ things from Ginny, which Ron thinks is very out-of-order, to do with your dream and your, erm, _moaning_."

Harry had a sudden flashback of his dream, he could see a body curled up in a bed, and he was walking towards it. He looked down and noticed he wasn't wearing a top –

"And I'm not saying a _thing _more!" Hermione interrupted. Harry snapped back to the present.

Ron had clearly gotten fed up of Neville and trying to help him and had come over and sat on the other side of Hermione. Silence between the three followed for the rest of the lesson, as neither Harry nor Hermione dared open their mouths, incase somehow they gave away the subject of their previous conversation. Once the end of the lesson came, Ron once again left as quickly as possible, with Hermione running along behind him, trying to catch up.

As everyone filed into the great hall for dinner, Harry left for the Gryffindor common room, not feeling very hungry and desperate to remember, or at least make some sense of his dream and what was going on. So he climbed the Marble Staircase and made his way along the corridors of Hogwarts towards Gryffindor tower. Before Harry had managed to get so far however, he stopped. He was in the middle of a corridor on the fourth floor and could hear crying coming from somewhere… and a voice trying to calm it. He silently moved towards the end of the corridor and peered around the corner. There, half way along this second corridor was a young boy, a first or second year, nursing a scarred hand. And there, crouched next to him, performing healing charms over the boys hand and trying to comfort him was… Malfoy! Harry pulled himself back round the corner to avoid spotted. Of all the things he'd expected to see, Malfoy actually _helping _somebody was the last thing he'd of thought. Harry stood there for a little while longer and soon heard Malfoy speak again, as he whispered to the boy, "Come on, before the Carrows find you," and left the corridor at the opposite end. Harry shook himself and left again for Gryffindor tower, thinking. Since the school had been under Snape's control, those dreaded quills Umbridge liked had been used to punish any wrong-doer. But Malfoy seemed to relish the new school system, why on earth would he be helping someone who had been issued with that punishment…

"Malfoy's such a prat!" Harry said to himself… though this time he wasn't really sure why.

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He arrived at the common room a few minutes later, to see Neville busy at a desk, making plans to bring back 'Dumbledore's Army.' And although Harry admired him for this, he knew he wouldn't get any peace or privacy here with Neville constantly asking him 'what he thought.' So with a quick nod at him, Harry climbed the stairs to the dormitories and collapsed onto his bed, drawing the curtains closed around him.

Harry didn't know how long he laid there for, just thinking. Malfoy's act of kindness played on his mind for most of the time, and occasionally he would get some sort of flashback of his dream, but it would come and go in a matter of seconds. Harry started to understand what Hermione meant in Charms, but what on earth was he to say to Ron? I'm sorry I dreamt about your sister? He couldn't even remember Ginny being in the dream - he couldn't remember much at all.

Slowly Harry became more and more tired and eventually gave up to get some sleep. He removed his glasses, rolled over onto his front and allowed himself to drowse off. He awoke a few minutes later at the sound of the dormitory door closing as Ron entered. Although Harry couldn't see him - due to the curtains surrounding his bed - he knew it was Ron, as he sat on the bed next to Harry's, sighing loudly as he did so. A thought struck Harry and he rolled over, took his wand and silently cast _Muffliato_ around his bed… If he was to have another dream like the last, he was determined to be the only one to know.


End file.
